
Class 

Rnok J_ 



GopyiightN?_ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT; 



Apostrophe to Hope 

and 

Other Poems 

By 

Laura Hull-Morris 



XTbe Umfcfeerbocfter press 

New York 
1915 






Copyrighted, 1915 

BY 

LAURA HULL-MORRIS 



Ube lfcnfcfeerbocker ipress, Hew IBorft 

NOV -9 1915 

©CI.A416291 



MY LADY JOSEPHINE 
(Mrs. A. B. F.) 

This Volume Is Dedicated 

In Affection 

L. H. M. 



CONTENTS 






PAGE 


Dedication iii 


Apostrophe to Hope . 


. 




3 


Ingratitude 


. 




6 


Solitude . 


. 




8 


A Song of Reunion . 


. 




II 


To a Young Child 






12 


To a Friend (a Toast) 






13 


Wind Sprites (March) 


• 




14 


Chant Praises to the Lord 




15 


To My Lady Josephine (a Portrait) 




17 


Ye Waves of the Winds . 




18 


To a Dragon Fly 


• 




19 


The Rain . 


. 




21 


God's Way 






22 


Of Love . 


. 




25 


September 


. 




26 


My Native Home 


• 




27 


Pourquoi? 


. 




29 


Little Lady Baby Mine 


. . 




30 



VI 



Contents 



After Parting . 

Wishing .... 

To My Baby Boys (a Lullaby) 

Chopin .... 

Silence .... 

The Rain is on the Roses 

Extase .... 

Meditation 

My Books 

Clara Barton . 

Christmas Memories . 

Redivivus 

To a Ring .... 

The Sea .... 

A Bouquet of Orchids 

To Baby Dorothy 

Home .... 

The Song of the Sea . 

Winter .... 

To Her .... 

Easter Morning 

To Deborah 

The Poinsetta . . . 



PAGE 

3i 

32 
34 
36 
38 
39 
40 
42 

44 
46 
48 
50 
52 
53 
55 
56 
57 
58 
59 
61 

63 
64 

65 



Contents vii 

PAGE 

America 66 

Lines to Julia 68 

To a Face Illumined ..... 69 

War and Peace 70 

A Lenten Meditation ..... 72 

On Presenting a Copy of a Favorite Book . 73 

Destiny ........ 74 

To a Leaf in Autumn ..... 76 

The Sabbath 78 

To a Violet 80 

To Dorothy 81 

A Thought to Mrs. — (Summer) .... 82 

To My Husband 83 

Envy. ........ 84 

Childhood ....... 86 

Youth 87 

Manhood 88 

Character ....... 90 

The Budds of Millersville .... 91 

Venus and Adonis ...... 93 

Smiles 95 

The Isle of Mackinac 96 

An Idyl 100 



viii Contents 

PAGE 

To a Grain of Rice . . . .- . 102 

Ye Waves 103 

To Dick 104 

Visions 105 

Trust 106 

In Extremis 107 

Veritas ........ 108 

There will be Rest no 

Oh, why the Great Heart's Overflow! . .111 
Drifting . . . . . . . . 113 

In Harbor .114 

Via Dolorosa 115 

Insomnia .116 

Sleep 119 

The Mist ........ 120 

An Album Leaf (to Mrs. C. C. B) . .121 

To Mrs. 122 

Oh, the Fair October Days .... 123 

The Sonnet 125 

Courage 127 

An Octave 128 

My Back Yard 129 

Christmas Song 132 



Contents 






ix 


PAGE 


My Mother's Last Message 








134 


Consolation 








136 


My Love and I 








. 137 


Victory .... 








138 


A Hymn .... 








139 


The Wind Blows 








140 


To C. S. N. 








142 


Honors must be Won 








144 


Music .... 








145 


A Mme. Marie Celeste P 








147 


Put not Thy Trust in Princes 








149 


To Gertrude H . 








151 


Ode to Friendship 








152 


A Sleighing Song 








154 


To Mrs. H .... 








155 


Sincerity .... 








156 


A Thought 








157 


Gratitude. 








158 


To Mr. and Mrs. M. S. 








159 


The Land of the Laughing Water 






160 


L'Envoi .... 








161 



Apostrophe to Hope 



APOSTROPHE TO HOPE 

Hope rears her head, star-eyed, love-crowned, 

And smiles when all else frowns. 

Likened to rainbow arch in sky, 

Anchor to soul and gleam of the sun, 

Oh where may likeness to thee be found, sweet 

Hope? 
Thou art to seafarer, anchor and light; 
To wayfarer, love and home; 
To weakness, strength; to sickness, health; 
To sin, salvation; to strife, repose; 
To doubt, the trust that doth restore. 

Hope, thy name is bright ! 
Faithful as friend throughout the dark night. 
Repulsed, thou dost rise, in hut, cell, or home; 
The poor man's wealth, the rich man's boon. 
The Christian's faith through long years of 

striving, 
The artist's star, just for the toiling, 
Not for the hoard, that limited word, 
But for greater gain, the soul's enlarging. 

Success is a vain word. 
How know we when we succeed in lines which 

grow to infinity ? 

3 



4 Apostrophe to Hope 

From beginnings, small and dwarfish, hope is 

the thought. 
She beckons, guides, leads, o'er stony paths, 
Through darkest waters, always smiling, ever 

nodding, 
No man she passes by, or if she would, 
An awful darkness would fall on him 
Like weight of careworn ages. 
Impetus to light hearts, light feet and busy 

loving hands. 
The Unseen ! the Mighty ! She springs from the 

deep ; 
'Gainst the tide she leaps; silent, defensive; 

Making fair th' impossible. 
Gilding the dawn of thought, scarce formed, 
Tim'rous, weak, to deeds of inspiration wrought. 
Patient in pain, present in sorrow; the crystal in 

tears ; 
Germ in the grain to blossom tomorrow. 

Thou art spirit of justice, fair Hope. 
These are thy offices, yet more; for at the last 
Thou desertest not; to the conscience, 
Thy soft whispers lend a light to guide the spirit 
After feet and hands, too wearied, refuse their 

bidding. 
And at the river where all travelers cross, 
In the same way, with pageant left behind, 
Simply, surely, even there, sweet Hope, thou 

failest not. 
Then the way is bright, the way that rich and 

poor 



Apostrophe to Hope 5 

And sad and gay, must pass alike, is smooth and 
bright 

By thy glad rays, dear Hope. 
Beacon light! thou'rt all there is, save God. 



INGRATITUDE 

Were all the hordes of hell 
Barking at your high estate 
You owe but loyalty for a benefit. 
Gratitude is graven on the tombs of saints ; 
And rightly, too, for it is most sublime and rare ! 
Graven on the hearts of but a few, 
'Twere ever so; I ne'er have given greatness; 
Generosity ; but that it fell as heart-break to the 
giver; 

And as thunderbolt from hell. 

And so, is earthly gain! 
He who knows not what he owes unto another, 

Shall, by Time, be taught; 
As pulses slower grow in days of contemplation, 
Justice comes ! It is a thing accurst, 

Not to know a benefit. 
Not to reckon with the Great Assayer; 
And so the triumph comes to him who hath 

most nobly wrought; 
To him who, in the plenitude of his great spirit, 

Must suffer and grow strong — 
In the nobility of acts, which may meet with no 

acclaim; 
Until Old Time shall say : 
6 



Ingratitude 7 

"These privileges are mine, and none shall 

gainsay me. 
My gifts are mighty, as my words ; 

For I am the ultimate; 
The end ; which inscribes upon the scroll 
Of long-lived Fame, and enrolls 

The motive and the spirit." 
Let ingratitude be engraven only 

On the fronts of fiends, 
'Tis not the high, or mighty mien; 
'Tis the displeasure of the gods to reckon with, 
There is no mien hatefuller to angels or to men 

Than foul-faced Ingratitude. 

It is fit for devils only in their hell; 

It is a grievous stain. 

June 16, 1915. 



SOLITUDE 

Out upon the sea's broad sweep 
No life save mine, near all this vasty deep 

To eye discovered; save seagull's silent flight 
Afar, across the blue of wave and light 

Of shimmering seas, that lash 
Their shores in e'er recurrent foam; and dash 

Their rocky sides in rhythmic song. 

'Midst tangled cedar's undergrowth I sit, 
'Neath soughing vines, and earth's black loam, 
unlit 

By summer's sun; and hear these waters woo 
In strain invincible; in gentlest cadence sue. 

Here, I, alone, would fain its soft refrain 
Interpret, divine its noble strain, 

In solitude's most grateful lay. 

The spring's soft gurgle and its trickling stream 
More eloquent than words of man, would seem 

To still his moanings. The waving fern, 
Whose roots 'neath yonder rock discern 

In humble eloquence its feathered greens, 
Turns toward the sea, and forward leans 

To find its kind in ocean deeps. 



Solitude 

Each has a voice; the tendrils roam 
Unfettered; white sea cap's foam 

In monotone and e'er repeated swell 
'Gainst rock-ribbed sides and mossy fell; 

The seagull's silent swing 
Above, adown, on graceful wing 

All basked in autumnal sun. 



The ship's soft course, the shaded bower; 
The widening water's greater power. 

Hast soul untouched? Come list to waves that 
lap 
These shores, as far mid-ocean cap 

Of foam another seeks all merged in endless 
song. 

Cedars sad as cypress with their promise of 
evergreen 
Prie-Dieu and mossy shrines, from out their 
copses lean; 
Here the soul essays to speak 
Its holiest utterances, in meek 

Expression, in this sanctuary of infinite 
mystery. 
******* 

Sunshine, silence, solitude! 
O trinity to man, of triune good ! 

Hast time to think ? to Source of these 
Thy reck'ning turn, and spirit sees 

Divinity everywhere, and God in all. 



io Apostrophe to Hope 

And now the atmosphere is gray, and sky and 
sea; 
Their symphony in minor key; 
Enchanting as a fragment of some sweet 
Forgotten song; and past and present meet 
In Memory's holy psalmody. 

September, 1905. 



A SONG OF REUNION 

Let happiness renew, let joy come forth! 
And Angel of Mirth, spread your wings over all. 
Let the precious gladness, forth, like the sun; 

Even the sunbeams of life. 
Love rules over all, while he serves; 
Let Love be entwined with laurel leaves, 
And with olive branch be plumed! 
Welcome him as one mighty ; 

A greater than king. 
Shout with gladness, he enters where he will; 
Abides, giving joy, giving peace 

And bringing cheer. 
Gloria in Excelsis! Love is Here! 

March 23, 1905. 



II 



TO A YOUNG CHILD 

Quaint of speech and fair of feature 

Beauty of face and form; 
Something rarer still, and sweeter, 

Is the charm of early morn, 
In this child's enchanting spirit 

Shedding to the atmosphere, 
Something which God gives with merit, 

And changes not when years are sere. 
June, 1899. 



12 



TO A FRIEND 
(a toast) 

There are times for us all in the day 
When our hearts full of hope and joy 

Make the rustle of wings seem not far away 
And life is without alloy. 

The sunshine has a goldener hue, 

The air has life in its trend, 
And this is the time in the day to renew 

When we see the face of a friend. 



13 



WIND-SPRITES 
(march) 

Hear the songs the winds are singing ! 

In full chorus gaily ringing ! 
Tell me, wind-sprites, what you're singing. 

Merry song you sing to-day, 
In roulade and roundelay ? 

O'er the high and lofty gables, 
Telling us in wild weird fables 

Of the sprites that haunt the gables, 
Are you merry, are you glad, 

Then why make the heart so sad? 

Do you shriek or cry in pain, 
Is your moan for many slain 

In the life-strife and the pain, 
Or are you glad and gay, 

Your song roulade and roundelay ? 

February 19, 1901. 



14 



CHANT PRAISES TO THE LORD 

"Religion, love, and music] are they not the triple 
expression of one fact, — the need of expansion, the need 
of touching with their own infinite the infinite beyond 
them, which is in the fibre of all noble souls? These three 
forms end in God, who alone can unwind the knot of 
earthly emotion. ' ' Balzac. 

The Lord will defend me and build up His 
mighty fortress 

About me. He will abide with me for I believe ! 
Mighty His judgments and just, 

Merciful that His judgments are not the judg- 
ments 

Of men, but that He alone is Almighty. 

I love to praise Him in the silence 

When He cometh to abide as my strength. 

For my weakness is His promise of help. 

He forsaketh not the cry of the wounded 
heart. 

He heareth and answereth. Let me praise Him 

In the sanctuaries of His creations. 

I am not afraid when my Saviour is my 
friend. 

I am not afraid. 

Nor perils nor dangers of the night can assail. 
15 



16 Apostrophe to Hope 

He disperseth all my fear. Let me meet His 
favor ; 
He hath promised all things to His faithful, 

Even His radiant presence, 
And in mercy He answereth prayer. 

August 15, 1905. 



MY LADY JOSEPHINE 

Beautiful to look upon, 
A queen of gracious mien, 
A woman pure and gentle 
Is my Lady Josephine. 

Her words are music on the air, 
Her voice is sweet and low, 
Caressing, soft and rhythmic 
As summer sounds that come and go. 

Her mind is a jeweled casket, 
Store of treasure rich and rare ; 
Beautiful her soul within — 
Her presence wondrous fair. 

"Who can paint, the lily?" 
In vain for words I seek; 
Phrases fail and naught avails 
When I of my friend would speak. 

Her thoughts are lofty, noble, 
She will always find I ween, 
Friends and friendships manifold — 
My Josephine, my queen. 



17 



YE WAVES OF THE WINDS 

Ye invisible waves of winds in space, 
Like ocean's billows' measured rythm, 

Continuously do flow. 
Like water's waves, and yet are dry. 
Temper with thy gentlest touch, O winds, 

When Sahara's heated breath, 

Or Tempest's awful threat 
Thy bosom heaves. 

Soothe with velvet touch 
The fevered pillow and the night's slow ache; 

Enter the homes of those who toil 
With freshening caress, in Summer's torrid heat; 
To the weary and the needy, bring rest — 
Thy fresh, sweet nectared wine — 
From ocean's bed, full-filtered. 
And when the ice king 'shrouds the earth 
In pitiless embrace, 

To suffering be thou kind ; 
Blow gently, and bring balm, ye waves 
From ether's endless sea. 

August. 



18 



TO A DRAGON FLY 

Thou pretty thing in Nature's realm 

Where hast thou found thy gorgeous raiment, 
Thy jewels, the soft flutterings of thy gilded 
wings, 
Thine insouciance and thy grace? 
Thy imperious, lofty ways, amongst thy meaner 
kind, 
Whence thy poses, catching the sunlight in 
thine eyes? 
The brightest breeze that plays, as clear and 
limpid 
As the lake, is thine, in which to dip 
Thy brilliant wings, and soar aloft, away 
Above the sulky grub and impish toad. 
Thou risest, like a pendant into space 

Of clustered setting of all precious gems 
Abounding in thy beauteous form. 

Dost know that thou art ornament of all about 
thee? 
How gay thou art ! No burden save thy jewelled 
self. 
Thy pastime, but to rise, to soar, 
To fly to some green leaf or to another; 
To top of tree or blade of grass, 
19 



20 Apostrophe to Hope 

Nor fear for thy safe moorings. So perfected 

Is thy form in all proportions 
Of grace and equipoise, that laughter 

Seems within thy wings, and thou mightest be 
The emblem of all gaiety. Dost know that thou 
art regnant 
In the ether? The blue is thine, the turf, 
The bush, the green, the sward. 

And how know we, that stars are not to thee? 
Thou toilest not, but all the bright long day, 

Thou'rt tipping this and lipping there 
Accusing all as thine. Thou art not made for 
grovelling, 
Beauteous thing! And whence and where 
Thy dainty mainspring, toy? What mechanism 

Clothed within so rare a beauty 
To propel a dainty thing. And who dare say, 
thee nay, 

Or aught to make thee pause? 



THE RAIN 

How the dripping from the eaves 

Starts the fancy going, 
Peopling with sprites the leaves, 

Their songs in music flowing. 

Music sweeter, gentler far 

Than all earth's children maketh, 

No discord there can ever mar 
And the soul's thirst it slaketh. 

Oh, the dripping, dropping rain! 

The sprites a cadence weaving 
Into harmonious sweet refrain, 

Our weary souls relieving. 

As tears are sent to ease the heart 
When it throbs in pain, 

So Nature's needs to her impart 
In the bounty-giving rain. 

September, 1900. 



21 



GOD'S WAY 

Though I might have had it otherwise 
Than the way it has been sent, 

Hard as the way and slow the pace 
Strength to me ever was lent. 

When bitter foes assailed 

And tried God's ends to thwart, 

He gave them just enough of power 
To lead them to the mart 

Where all roads lead to Him; 

For every child his lot 
Ordained, for time, has been, 

And for eternity changes not. 

What waste of time and moments spent, 
What feverish haste in vain ! 

Slow to learn His one great word 
Growth is travail and pain. 

But for the foes and dangers past 
I had never reached the heights. 

These are His labourers in the plan; 
So I bless the Hand that smites. 



God's Way 23 

With pity, think of those who dare 

To change His plan, to try 
Their own, in Life's great plan 

And send them but a sigh. 



And thank my foes, as suns arise 
As they see their work is done; 

For what is mine shall be my own 
Unchanging as the sun 

In its long course, to rise and set; 

Yet ever shines the while, 
'Tis my short vision only 

That I must reconcile 

That it illumes another way 

When I have not the light, 
For kindly He withholds the glare 

For clearer, nobler sight 

Of truths learned on the way, 

Better to climb, than with a bound 

To heights attain; through Sorrow's plan 
And deeper plummets sound. 

I ride or walk, or sit and wait, 

I know those near are likewise tried 

With burdens, which each strives to bear 
With courage, putting pain aside. 



24 Apostrophe to Hope 

So I take my cup of bitterness 

If my soul it doth expand, 
For life is living something more 

For this offering from His hand. 

True, His way not mine, oh no ! 

Paved with heart pangs and soul ache, 
And if I the way could know, 

My strength would waver and forsake 

But 'tis thus the fibre forms 
For storms and clouds o'ercast, 

And gives strength to endeavor 
To reach the haven at last. 

Nor hand of man or demon 
Can from me this prize wrest; 

For what is mine is surely mine 
If I claim it in the quest. 

And if I claim it not, and pray 
Thy will, not mine, be done, 

As rivers flow unto the sea, 
A Hand will lead me on. 

1904. 



OF LOVE 

Oh who can sing of love ! 

The gentle tender tie that binds 
Within its chain and never finds 

The fault or tear 
And naught to fear; 

Oh who can sing of love! 

Of love which knows no change 
For time or aye, 

What minstrel's lay 
Can sing? 



25 



SEPTEMBER 

All hail, September! Harbinger of fall of leaf 

and bloom, 
With promise of the freshness of the frost. 
After days of weariness, of lassitude and ease, 
Return to active life and freshened buoyant air. 
Decay and failure thou foretellest, 
Hope's chastisement and withholding, 
To come in greater beauty in the spring. 
Vacation days of rest, the fuller days of toil, 
Pulses quickened by the lessons of the past, 
Of hopes and their fulfillment, 
Delays and failures blended, 
Typified in seasons of the year. 

1901. 



26 



MY NATIVE HOME 

Fair City of the Plains, 

Your fame would bid us know 
That Nature smiled upon you 

When she named you long ago. 
Your trees are tall and stately, 

Your banks are mossy green ; 
Your skies are bluer than the blue 

Of other skies, I ween. 



You are fairer than the heather 

That o'er your valley blows, 
Fanned by gentle breezes 

Its spreading beauty sows. 
You are to me the measure 

Of a childhood's happy home; 
Memory twines a wreath in pleasure 

When in far off lands I roam. 



Fair City of the Plains, 
I love your hills and dales; 

My mind doth fondly ponder 
The soft breezes in your vales. 
27 



28 Apostrophe to Hope 

As no others, since, have done, 

Their sweet songs have touched my heart 
With a music almost magic; 

Bidding all but joy depart. 



Though framed in plains of beauty 

Your outlook is from high hills, 
I quaff a long draught to you 

From out your flowing rills; 
May Nature's horn of plenty 

O'er all your valleys strow 
Her contents ever lavish 

All good things to bestow. 

Join in fraternal union 

Success to your sons and their sires; 
All joy to mothers and daughters 

Who build 'round their altars the fires 
Of love as your beacon 

To your days guiding star, 
And brave men and fair women 

Send your praises anear and afar. 

February 14, 1900. 



POURQUOI? 

I know not why I should be sad, 
The heaven's vault is blue; 

The stars are shining for us all 
And I have you; 

The birds are singing in the boughs, 

The leaflet is in green, 
The world is full of beauty 

As we have seen. 

It storms, sometimes, and rains; 

Tears fall, and chilly blast. 
Why does the sunshine nicker 

And shadows last? 

While I have you, my darling, 
I will not give way to pain 

As we pluck the flowers together 
That bloom in rain. 



January, 1900. 



LITTLE LADY BABY MINE 
(To Baby T ) 

I have a little baby, 

Her lips are petals of the rose; 
Her eyes are blue as any skies, 

And on her brow the whiteness 
Of the lily grows. 

O she is blithesome ! 

And so lithesome 
Her soul is all sunshine; 

She is dainty, sweet, and winsome 
Little Lady Baby Mine. 



1901. 



30 



AFTER PARTING 

The music's throb and the poet's rhyme, 
The painter's art and the truant time, 
The sculptor's work and the voyage long, 
The architect's draft and the singer's song, 
Can charm but little; less repay, 
When the voice we cannot hear, though near, 
And from companionships so dear 
We are withheld, through passing years; 
Though absence all our loves endears. 
In tenderer strain yet yearns the heart 
And longing more, with bitter smart; 
So turns to strong Endeavor's test 
And consecrates to works' behest; 
That days shall go, tomorrows come, 
And bring to us our loved ones home. 
In reunion, find our mercies sweet 
As the faithful in their Heaven meet. 

May 31, 1904. 



3i 



WISHING 

How futile were wishing, and beautiful too, 
If wishing be part of that we shall do ; 

Not foolishly pining for that unpossessed, 

But rather the prayer of the righteous and 
blest. 

How gaily caparisoned the horses might go 
Which "beggars might ride" if wishing were 
so; 
And not for the earning of what shall be ours, 
For 'tis only by effort that we gain of our 
powers. 

Oh the elan of wishing, when thoughts troop 
around 
In which justice and beauty and fairness 
abound ! 
Sending gloom and distrust, with love's colors 
flying 
In the place of despair, whose embers lay 
dying. 

And wise wishes are often the prophets, fore- 
telling 
Of what is to come; of fears oft dispelling; 
32 



Wishing 33 

Placed in our consciousness, there to abide, 
Till prophecy, true, no doubt can betide. 

Ah the uplift of wishing ! when Fancy runs riot 
In the arcades of Time where, 'mid peace and 
the quiet 
Of Thought's silent Temple, the soul's mystic 
shrine, 
Gives up legions of wishes from the wealth of 
its mine. 

For the best of the Muses, the crafts and the arts 
That beauty and truth shall obtain in the 
hearts 
Of Mankind's suffering children, and no longer 
their pain: 
Then the end of all wishing is Life's greatest 
gain. 

June 4, 1905. 

3 



TO MY BABY BOYS 

(a lullaby) 

One with fair hair with a glint of the gold, 
Another dear head in my arms to enfold. 
******* 
Eyes light with laughter, 

Making sunshine for all; 
Smiles in their dear depths 
Raise the gloom's darkest pall. 

Pure as the lily heart 
From which the bee sips, 

Purer than heart of lily 
Are my dear babies' lips. 

Tears on the cheeks, loves, 

Angels should not weep, 
They are sent earth to brighten 

While they their vigils keep. 

Love-touched with fay fingers 

The deep dimples attest, 
Knuckle, cheek, chin, and knee; 

Rest, my sweet babies, rest. 

******* 
34 



To My Baby Boys 35 

Shall coming years be freighted 

With flowers and evergreens, 
To you a special mission 

To bowers and fairy scenes? 

Ah me, dear ones, I fear sometimes, 

That tears amid the laughter 
May come in notes discordant, 

And leave their traces after. 

I kiss my baby boys to sleep 
And pray for Heaven's blessing, 

Trusting the Father over all, 
My helplessness confessing; 

And when no Mother bends the knee 
And they gaze at a heart at rest, 

They will bear her where the cypress blooms, 
And know that what is, is best. 

March 14, 1899. 



CHOPIN 

Mighty builder of Gothic Temples! Mystic 
shrine ! 
Inspired and created in revered design. 
Heritage of more than classic lore; 

Singer whose forms and strains shall soar 
To touch the world-heart; its harmonies to 
fashion ; 
The world-heart to touch, its fickleness, its 
passion. 
Its steadfastness, its soul, its fancy; 
By his wondrous necromancy. 



From thy gables spring melodies 

Like cataracts' plash — roundelays, — 
Hurling down from the mountains ! 

Silver spray, from the fountains! 
Glinting and sprinting their lovely sheen 

Like jewels flashing in sunlight seen. 
Concealed now by turret and lost to view, 

Then sparkling o'er tower in gay crest of dew. 

Traceries rare, as old patterns in lace; 

Inwrought, o'erwrought, in rarest of grace; 
36 



Chopin s7 

Architect, subtle in shadow and light, 

When the winds moan 'mid thy turrets at 
night, 

Thy noble structure returns their refrain 
And thou singest in earth's saddest strain. 



In thy gables and turrets and towers of song 

The soul finds abode and abideth long. 
Builder, O Builder, thou hast not wrought in 
vain 
Since thou spakest all moods to the long 
human train. 
Structure stuccoed in jewels, — crystallized tears. 

Their high vaulted dome to heaven appears. 
Dazzling heights, O Builder, whence thy soul 
man can view; 
Temple shrine where may worship thy devout 
chosen few. 



SILENCE 

Opaque as in the mind's recesses 

Silence holds her subtle sway. 
Folds us in her mantle's meshes, 

Points us to our inner day. 
In shadowy lines to us unsealing 

Visions of the better man ; 
Of Life's truths the mines revealing 

As the turmoil never can. 
Seed is planted in the sunlight, 

In the sun-lit day; 
Matured by fruitful dew of twilight, 

From tumult far away. 

August 14, 1901. 



38 



THE RAIN IS ON THE ROSES 

The rain is on the roses, Alice dear, Alice dear, 
The rain is on the roses, Alice dear, 

But to-morrow's sun will brighten, 
And our hearts with joy will lighten; 

Their message then shall greet you, 
Alice dear. 

Heaven-sent tears are fruitful, Alice dear, Alice 
dear, 
Heaven-sent tears are fruitful, Alice dear; 
They will bloom in greater glory, 
They will tell a sweeter story, 
When they greet you on the morrow, 
Alice dear. 
June 4, 1905. 



39 



EXTASE 
(impressions in the early morning) 

Glorious are the hills ! 

Song all time fulfills ; 
My heart in rapture thrills 

To the glory of the hills. 

To my soul the sight 

Of this early morning's light 
Shows Nature's rapturous might 

In all her native right. 

'Mid boughs and branch, the trills 
From music's throat ; and thrills 

The air; as flow the rills 
Adown the verdant hills 



In Nature's wondrous lay, 
From early light of day 

Till sunset's latest ray. 
My soul, make no delay 
40 



Extase 41 



To praise for gifts so rare 
As this delight to share 

And fling away thy care 
In joys of earth and air. 

May 5, 1904. 



MEDITATION 

{Le bon Dieu tie nous a rien donne plus precieux que le 
temps.) 

Time, thou priceless gift of God, 

Why waste we in repining? 
The harvest must be garnered, the fruition 
tended ; 

Yet how slothful, how complaining ! 
Knowing not the coming season, we must till on , 

Watering with our tears the sod, 
Furrowing with our sighs the clods, 

Gathering seed for another planting; 
For all things renew, and come again. 

Leaving no thing to lesson man, 
If he will but learn. Why tarry, my soul, 

And wait, always asking why ? 
He hath said: he who asketh, shall receive; 

And he who hath ears, let him hear; 
For in the signs given, if he will not, 

He shall not. Sincerely let us pray, 
Thy will be done, and from evil deliver us. 

Thou who dost hang worlds in ether, 
Dost hold the stars in space, 

The Oceans in their beds, 
42 



Meditation 43 

The mountains on their bases; Thou, who 
makest 
The harebell and the leaflet, 
The lily and the rose. Who can magnify Thee, 

Power of the million Joves ! 
Tender as the child in arms, let us meditate on 
Thee. 
Since Thou hast promised that he who 
Asketh shall receive, grant, then, O Father, 
That what Thou sendest be not too great a 
burden, 
But give us rest, and give us peace. 
April 2, 1901. 



MY BOOKS 

My books are my companions, and lonely 

Indeed were I, if vacant space 
Were there to take the place 

When I come to greet them. 
They lend unto my moods, and rest 

I find; faithful friends and fast, 
Ne'er changing; but outlast 

The varying times and tides 
Of years a-gone, and yet to come. 

Trustful, faithful to their mission 
To lowly, puritan and patrician; 

Silent messengers from many minds. 

Ranged in tiers like sentinels 

To guide and guard the days 
From dreaded ennui ; and in praise 

Of life and loving, I go forth 
With braver heart and stronger 

For their sympathy; in spirit chastened 
Go; but to return to them as hastened 

To the embrace of one we love. 
He is not friendless who has books; 

And choice his friends, as he may choose 
In coterie select, where none may lose 

The precious aroma of nectar 'd wine 
44 



My Books 45 

From which the gods might sip. 

And from the flight of verse, in inspiration 
wrought 
So fluent and so fine, as unsought 

It seems to flow untrammeled 
Like the mighty river in its course, 

Giving green; and bright in gladness, 
Or to some strain touched with sadness, 

All our sorrows and our joys sustaining, 
Ye books are human in all moods; 

In sighs and tears and laughter ; 
In logic, science, art ; thereafter, 

Speak unto my soul, as to a friend. 

Give me my books and I am rich 

In thought, in fame and store. 
In fancy rare, and historied lore; 

I revel with the mightiest kings 
And with the master crafts I toil; 

Commune with saints on high, 
With poets walk, with artists sigh 

In moments of delice; 
When Inspiration's tardy wing 

Spreads and illumines all 
To mortal gifts, and weaves the thrall 

Of mankind's sovereign need. 



CLARA BARTON 

Name apart in woman's annals 

High on the scroll of noble deeds another Night- 
ingale, 

With genius single-eyed to mankind's weal, 

She came upon the scene empowered to act. 

A hero woman; missioned for a time and place. 

She moved among her suffering kind, 

Nor flood nor fire, nor war's alarm, deterred. 

A Joan had not less of fear, nor for her country 
nobler wrought 

Than this pale Sister of the Charities. 

A soldier woman ; meek in obedience, intrepid in 
command. 

She moved at night, a patriot, among her nation's 
dead and dying. 

Hands ready, seeking for their toil, 

T'assuage the throbbing brow, the gashed flesh, 

And soft words to soothe the fevered spirit. 

She scattered seeds of promise, everywhere; 

In devastation's wake new gardens grew, and 
fields were blossomed. 

Nights turned to days, so eloquent in ministra- 
tion 

That praise to monument so enduring, cannot add 
46 



Clara Barton 47 

To wreath of laurel and crown of olive 

Weaved from assuaged pain and whispered words 

of dying men. 
Through passes narrow and morasses' murky 

depths, 
On battle field, she strode, with chosen band of 

Spartans. 
Unfurl the flag ! Insignia of the Cross ! 
Its every wave protection to proclaim. 
To work; bring gladness to the eye of soldier 

martyr, 
And to the cheek its color, strength to limb 
And hope to heart. Let not our ranks be deci- 
mated 
Of noble manhood's life. 
Moist the parched lips, while battles rage 
And combats clash, where mothers may not go, 
Or sister's cheering word, nor kiss of wife may 

bless. 
My countrymen, what praise for one 
Whose immortelles are wrought of deeds! 



CHRISTMAS MEMORIES 

Where are the rattle, the drum, and horn 
That I heard on awakening each Christmas 

morn, 
When the wee ones' shouts rang loud and clear, 
Rang out in gay laughter and Christmas cheer? 
On Christmas eve the good-night kiss 
Half smothered in questions of joy and bliss, 
Of the morrow's hopes and of Santa Claus, 
And mysteries all, in many wise saws. 

My heart is full, but empty my hands, 
As my babies wander in far-away lands; 
And as my thanks ascend on high — 
A prayer, a tear and a tender sigh 
For something gone from this day so dear, 
Gone from its merriment, laughter, and cheer; 
For I hear not the drum in its deafening din 
Nor see the youngsters come marching in. 

It all seemed sweet and natural then, 

But I fear sometimes, since they've grown to be 

men, 
That the noises great and the deafening roar 
Of children and to}^s impress me more 
48 



Christmas Memories 49 

With the sweetness of things that come not 

again — 
In Memory's haunts so long they have lain; 
And today, they are with me in childish glee 
As they were in those days, clustered 'round my 

knee. 

Xmas, 1904. 
4 



REDIVIVUS 

It must have been an angel in the night 

Bringing balm in mysterious unknown word 
to me; 
Word full of meaning and of might 
Fraught with hope for restoration; 
Redivivus, life and light ! 

Prom the heights, so fair and lofty and so 
bright 
Came the angel bearing balm in this word 
unknown to me; 
Ringing out as joyous bells in the stillness of the 
night 
Giving faith and taking unbelief away; 
Redivivus, life and light ! 

Its meaning to my vision brought new sight; 
This mysterious word, then unknown to 
me, 
And its answer in the silence of the night 
I only knew from vanquished pain and 
silenced woe. 

Redivivus, life and light ! 
50 



Redivivus 51 

In each soul dwells its consciousness of might; 
Its spark divine; though its revelation oft 
delayed ; 
Oft it speaks, too, in the silence of the night 
To a knowledge born of seeking, 
Redivivus, life and light ! 



TO A RING 

(Remembrance) 

A GOLDEN circlet, a little ring; 

A dainty jewelled thing, 
Telling its silent message through the years 

Of the steadfast love he bore 
In the happy days of yore. 

Days that are as happy yet, 

For who would e'er forget 
The old sweet memories of the yester-time? 

When the heart's own lore 
Makes its spring-tide ever more. 



52 



THE SEA 

Fathomless mystery, the Sea! 
Mother Nature to her own 
Of dales and glades, of mount and moon; 
But of all, her child, the sea, 
Is the greatest mystery. 

It speaks, but few can understand; 

It hearkens but to her command; 

It roars and threats, and moans and smiles, 

Boundless moods the sea, 

From laughter light to mutiny. 

Beautiful, yet pitiless! 

From waves which shimmer blithesomely 

Softly swells thy lullaby; 

Knowest thou thy power? 

That even though thou lulled be, 

Still art thou awful, mighty Sea. 
Thou art dark and grave and gay; 
Worthy twin to mountain's height; 
The wave caps and the high peaks light, 
Children both, of Nature's heart 
53 



54 Apostrophe to Hope 

Sky-tipped peak, and boundless sea 
Dost thou then repine? 
O child as awful as Fate ! 
Or art thou not too grave and great, 
Waveless though thou be? 
And though thou givest bounteously, 
Still art thou awful, 
Beautiful Sea! 



A BOUQUET OF ORCHIDS 

A bunch of Orchids, children of the air! 

Thou dost descend to honor me; 
Thou, exclusive, rare and fair. 



Thy fay slippers fit for fairy feet 

Come merry with the dance; 
Aristocrat! from high retreat 

Ye come; as herald from my friend, 
Ye velvet- throated trumpets ! 

Which through my veins do send 
(Giving of thy fine cachet), 

Sweet speech, though breathed in silence, 
In the breath of thy bouquet. 

Ye velvet-hearted bells 
Ye came to me a-singing, 

Harbingers of joy; I see a heart in thee, 
More than flower, ye came a-ringing 

With a friend's most gracious lay; 
Her most precious message 

Sent me in thy rare cachet. 
1906. 



55 



TO BABY DOROTHY 

A child, a flower; 
A blossom of incomparable perfume ; 
A mysticism of loveliness ; 

A mystery of God's power; 
A manifestation of His love; 
A beauty that has its pathos; 

A soul that has its mission; 
A smile that has its heaven. 
And this is Dorothy. 

February 19, 1903. 



56 



HOME 

Life is an Ocean; 

The home is the ship, 
Where Love rules the rudder, 

Let not a sail rip. 

Firm and steady her launch, 
Build her strong, build her true ! 

For all winds and all tides, 
Build her staunch. 

For there's one spot on earth 
Where the weary find rest, 

Where the wayward return 
After Folly's long quest. 

Safe craft to the haven 

As en voyage we roam 
O'er Life's foaming billows 

To our long cherished Home. 

April 30, 1904. 



57 



THE SONG OF THE SEA 

O the song of the sea is delightful to me, 

With its ever varying rhyme; 
Its harmonies fair and its melodies rare 

Are glimpses of music sublime ! 

O the song of the sea is a marvel to me, 

Its cadences fill my soul ; 
Bringing memories sweet old songs to repeat, 

From the waves and billows they roll! 

the song of the sea borne on waves to me, 
In chorus, song, ballad, and hymn, 

In thunderous voice they bid me rejoice, 
Their meaning is no longer dim ! 

That the song of the sea has a message for me, 

Is assurance tender and sweet; 
That to my soul it should open its scroll, 

Is happiness naught can defeat. 

O the song of the sea is joyous to me! 

The song, the song, of the sea! 
the song of the sea is great joy to me, 

The song, the song, of the sea ! 
58 



WINTER 

(" But winter has brighter scenes, . . . 
Splendors beyond what gorgeous summer knows. 
Or autumn, with his many fruits and woods 
All flushed with many hues. ' ' 

William Cullen Bryant.) 

Thou'rt royal, Winter! though forbidding oft 

to him 
Who see'st not the life that rests in root and stem 
Of leafless tree; and current 'neath the icy sur- 
face 
Of brook's and river's courses; who see'st not 
The warm ermine that thou hast donned in 

kingly splendor 
As mantle wrapped about thy bosom, entwining 

in its warm embrace. 
On yonder slope, within that trunk of brown and 

sere, 
Thy pulse throbs beat, the life is there, 
And fragrant balsam, frozen, but t 'unseal 
With first glad laugh of Spring; to me, thou'rt 

beautiful, 
Winter, in varied aspect of the morn and noon 

and night. 
This day the air is white with texture fine 
59 



60 Apostrophe to Hope 

And gossamer lightness, anon in tapestries of 
snowy loom 

Lambent in scurrying flakes, as conscience- 
driven, 

They knew thy needs, and hurrying to their 
fulfillment. 

Weaving wondrous patterns into space, and lying 

Close and low upon thy bosom, so beautiful and 
still! 

To me, thou'rt comely, Winter, aye more, thou'rt 
regal; 

How thy sky becomes thee! The softest hues 
of gray 

With thine aesthetic white commingle in coloring 
of iridium, 

And earth's soft tones with metal white are 
mingled 

In Art's most gracious Art. 

Though thy still dignity maintaining, thou 
frownest not; 

'Tis but thy stately mien; and 'neath thy coun- 
tenance 

There dwells a warmth and kindliness. 

Thou'rt old and hoary, Winter, and thou'rt 
kingly. 
November 13, 1904. 



TO HER 

Here's a posey for my sweetheart, 
Look into its heart for mine; 

Emblem of love and friendship, 
Of all, life's rarest wine; 

For a heart, you know, is a gift below, 
To remind us of things divine. 

Take this message, blossom, 

To one I long to see; 
Take it with dainty tenderness 

From your home across the lea. 
For Nature is true, and so are you; 

So bear my sincerity. 

Can I trust you with this mission 

My heart to her to bear? 
For it can throb and even break 

If not with tenderest care 
Within her keeping, in love-feast reaping 

The blessings of friendship rare. 

So take this posey to my sweetheart, 
Look into its heart for mine; 
61 



62 Apostrophe to Hope 

Emblem of joy and friendship, 

Of all, life's rarest wine; 
For a heart, you know, is a gift below 

To remind us of things divine. 



EASTER MORNING 

He is risen ! glorious truth ! 

Light and not darkness is vouchsafed to men. 
His raiment as the sunshine, resplendent in His 
power. 
Who, among Earth's children may give forth 
To the Infinite, praise, in the finitude 

Of their understanding; who can extol His 
loving kindness? 
That He hath died for us, and that he hath 
Returned unto us, that our feet may not be 
cut 
By the sharp stones; that the wounds of our 
hearts 
Shall be healed by the favor of His infinite 
love. 
Let gratitude and praise fill the air; 
The Lord is risen! 

1909. 



63 



TO DEBORAH 

I know a flower so dainty 

That in the garden grows, 
As sweet as bluest violet 

Or stately growing rose; 
It scatters its sweet perfume 

In generous behest, 
And gives out truth and beauty 

In Nature's bower the best. 

I know a girl so dainty, 

So like this flower is she, 
Her eyes as soft and gentle 

As the blossoms on the lea. 
Would'st know what flower I liken? 

Seek the sweet forget-me-not; 
Truth's and friendship's emblem 

Are hers by Nature wrought. 
August i, 1 90 1. 



64 



THE POINSETTA 

The passion-beauty Poinsetta 

Brought me from lady fair 
To grace my festal board 

On occasion rare; 

For when friend to meet friend comes 
Communion means the sweetest pleasure, 

The best exchange of thought 
Culled from moments leisure. 

Not alone the blossoms, 

Yet more, their meaning sweet; 

Of my friend the flower the emblem is, 
To my heart I oft repeat. 
February i, 1904. 



65 



AMERICA 

Our loved land America! Proud pearl of the 
seas! 
Set in mountains of gold, silver lakes and their 
leas; 
In a wealth of the Ind, she proclaims in her 
might 
The good she has done in the cause of the right. 
To the mercy and strength of a prosperous reign, 
All hail hymns of praise in defence of her main ! 
Her soldiers and sailors shall love her and die 
If need be, to perish 'neath far away sky. 
'Mongst the nations of earth she comes like a 
queen 
A queen she doth stand, in gracefulest mien; 
Olive branch for her friends, flaming sword for 
her foes, 
She hath naught but hope, courage, faith, and 
repose. 
A star's radiance gleams in her coronet aflame, 
Emblem of light and love, of beauty and fame; 
These rays to her bright crown have been won 
By the manliest men the sun e'er shone on. 
America, thy sons and daughters and sires 

Give praise with shouts, with voices and lyres, 
66 



America 67 

In battle or peace, in war hymn or in song, 
Obedience and reverence shall redress all 
wrong. 

******* 

Until thy rills and wooded lanes, 
Mountain peaks and vales acclaim, 
From grassy slope to ocean's strand, 
All hail, All hail, to thy dear name, 

AMERICA ! 
1896. 



LINES TO JULIA 

Fair Julia! sweet ether of a name; 

A girl I love and she loves me; 
She is ever constant, true; 

Though I rarely see her dear face now, 
For distance far has spanned the sea 

Which divides us not. 

True hearts grow near in memories, 
And thought makes soul to soul appear. 

So absence takes her not from me; 
While memory lives, I have no fear 

To be forgot; nor e'er base thought 
Of her forgetting. 
March, 1905. 



68 



TO A FACE ILLUMINED 

Enchanting smile ! the soul's reflection 

Of pure white chambers untraversed by sin ! 

Spark divine; spirit of God-head; 
Radiance glorified within ! 

Speak unto my soul's recesses 

Soul to soul, communion sweet 
In earth's language, yet immortal 

As when spirit issues meet. 

Radiant illumination, gift of God unto His own; 

Halo of the star-lit starshine, 
Love inspired, approved mission; 

Expression of its Source divine ! 

August 2, 1901. 



69 



WAR AND PEACE 

I am weary of reading of wars, 

And I wish we might have peace; 
And from the prowess of Mars 

I long for world-wide release. 

I am weary, so weary, of strife, 

And I long for peace and love 
Like beacon stars in the lighthouse of life 

To shine on the path that I rove. 

Every atom in the world is alive, 

Moving, and ever in motion; 
So futile all wish to deprive 

Fixed laws of their changeless portion. 

Yet I'm weary; though wishing be lost, 
And I know it seems weak to complain, 

But warring and striving have cost 
So many heroes in life to be slain. 

Let bells ring out to earth peace, 

And chimes sing toward men good- will ; 

Let delight the sorrows of warring decrease, 
The promise of youth's bright dream to fulfill. 
70 



War and Peace 71 

Which lends hope to the coming tomorrow 

And adds to life's glad refrain; 
A truce to gloom and to sorrow, 

And a smile at care and pain. 

I am weary of reading of wars 

And I wish we might have peace ; 
And from the prowess of Mars 
I long for world-wide release. 
April 14, 1904. 



A LENTEN MEDITATION 

Lord save us from ingratitude ! 

That sin of cowering souls, 
Hateful in Thy sight as any crime. 

Save us from the clay 
That thou hast made with spirit, 
And let the divine within, 

That touch of Thee, 
Give th' expression of its Source to man 

Thy work most masterful. 
Grant an exultation in our thanks 

For all Thou sendest. 
Patience to await the mission 

Of the joys and burdens. 
For Thy goodness and Thy mercy 

Follow Thy benighted children 
Even as the light; and fulfillment 

Of Thy promises also, 
In the despair of their bewilderment; 

Yea, even as the luminance of their fulfillment. 



72 



ON PRESENTING A COPY OF A FAVORITE 
BOOK 

Look not long upon the cover of this book, 

Haste thou to its inner beauties; 
Linger there with many a look 

And it will help thee to perform life's duties. 

The cover's naught, the gems inside, 
Are culled from minds o'er the whole world 
wide. 

Teaching life's lessons in precept sublime, 
Pillars of truth, which decay not with time. 

1895. 



73 



DESTINY 

Whence comest thou, and whither goest, 

Thou great dark mystery of a life? 

Leading through labyrinthal ways, 

As by the hand, man, thy servant, toy 

Or chessman on the board, to higher ways 

Or lower, as thou shalt specify. 

Two paths, maybe, and each divergent, 

But thou dost attend them both. 

Unknowable and Unknown! through devious 

paths 
We blindly go to follow thee. 
Thou oft denying, that thou may'st give, 
And laughing at our woes, 

Dost send us greater things. 
Nature's powers are thy command; 
All laws compelled by thee. 
The astral world thou dost invoke; 
Forged by thy will, all things thine, 
Our loves and joys come as thy gift, 
To fashion thy desires. All this thou doest too; 
Hatred and jealousy are tricks of thine, 
Revenge; all padded by their smiling looks, 
And trained to seem not what they are. 
So come Ambition, strife; Genius, envy; 
74 



Destiny 75 

And Love, recompense! all their parts per- 
forming 

As plays toward the goal. 

Thou dost abase, but to exalt ; 

Dost oft lift up, but to cast down. 

Magician, Potentate, ages justify thy means 

unto an end: 
The foolish asking why, and halting, fear thee. 
The wise plod on with graver mien 
And trust with braver heart, knowing, 
Thus shape our ends to God's own will 

And to greater usefulness. 
Ships built for smooth or rougher seas, 
Soldiers to bear the brunt of arms, 
Some framed to labor, and others 
To that harder part — to wait. 
Thou dost deter by treachery and masked 
perfidy, 

And thou sendest love and trust. 
Merciful in severity, and severe in loving kindness, 
O Destiny, thou explorest the inner chambers of 

the soul ! 
The end, ever in thy limitless vision. 
And in this web of life, its warp and woof, 

Thou weavest for us all ! 
And who escapes thy mandates, Fate? 

Time is thy playground, 
Thy pastime the lives of men. Thou'rt awful; 
Immutable, inexorable, impenetrable, Fate. 

June 30, 1 90 1. 



TO A LEAF IN AUTUMN 

Fading smile of summer ! thou infinitesimal thing 

For which no man seems to care; 

Thou shape with consciousness, a part of many 

parts 
Thou art of this great Universe. 
Dost bud, unfold, and fall again; thy veined 

face 
A history tells of offices performed 
At Nature's own behest; thou, obedient, 
Camest at her call ; did what thou hadst to do 
Leaving with thy well-done work, its lessons. 
So small a part thou art of such a whole 
And yet so glorified; in infancy thou wert 

graceful, 
Fair to look upon; in maturity yet fairer; 

And in the sere, unsightly. 
Thy seasons are the same as man's. 
Thy pretty message in the spring, yet more 
Illumined in the summer, — in autumn shed. 
In winter's frozen blast, thou returnest to the 

earth 
There thy work to consummate 
In the great economy of God, where nothing 

wastes; 

76 



To a Leaf in Autumn 77 

And each a part hath to perform. 

Thy form is dead now, e'en in autumn; 

But from its germ we look hereafter for its 

image; 
Thou and thy twin, ever failing, then renewing. 
September 22, 1900. 



THE SABBATH 

The Lord unto Himself a day appointed 
And in wisdom gave to His anointed 

The blessed Sabbath tide, 
In whose reverent silence dwells 
The soul's rest ; and thought within compels 

To loftier spheres. 
When hammers' busy work is dumb 
And the world's and labor's urgent hum 

Is stilled in toilsome mart, 
He shows His loving face 
In wondrous language through all space. 

Upon the reverent air; 
In sunlight poured in rich effulgence, 
From flow'ret, sward, to inward sense; 

Bringing messages of love. 
His builded cliff His altar; the trees His shrines, 
Whence to His creatures come the signs 

Of mighty promises. 
In thundering tones, or softest strain, 
In Ocean's roar or Sea's refrain, 

To hear His holy name. 
In waters' flow and brooks' bright gleams, 
In sparkling radiance His goodness seems 

To counsel all in living speech 

78 



The Sabbath 79 

And from earth's arc 

Soprano's voice from throat of lark 

All praises brings 
In chorus of the earth and air, triumphant sings 
These mighty hymns to God in praise 
For His great boon, these consecrated days 

Of hope and rest. 
October 15, 1905. 



TO A VIOLET 

Thou hast touched the azure, 
And retained its lovely hue; 

Thou 'broiderest on the emerald 
Thy coronets of blue. 

In all the beauty 'round thee 
Of earth and sky and tree 

Thy arabesques, sweet violets, 
Vie with them on the lea. 

In thy dainty corona, 
Bejewelled with the dew, 

Are all the beauties of the sky 
Of ether's rarest hue. 

Thou hast five points to thy crown, 

Title to thy nobility; 
Thou dost thy royal raiment wear 

In lowly sweet humility. 

Forth like smiles from teardrops, 
Thou comest after rain; 

Oh would that thou thrice earnest, 
Nor so long in earth had lain. 

April 27, 1903. 

80 



TO DOROTHY 
(a valentine) 

Would' st have my heart? 

'Tis wholly thine; 
I ask thine eyes, 

A gift divine, 
In their dear depths 

Love's law to find. 



81 



A THOUGHT TO MRS. 

(summer) 

Feebly the pen expresses 
All the soul fain would say 

Of the varied beauties 

Of this sunshiny summer day. 

Ashfield, Mass., August, 1901. 



82 



TO MY HUSBAND 

Sitting in the sunshine by the sea; 

O blessed privilege ! if those I love could be 

By my side, and with me share 
This beauteous sight 
Of amber clear as light ; 

While all the music of the spheres 

In chorus chants Te Deum ; and all fears 

Suspended, in this glorious mystery 
I now can read 
Of fruitful seed 

By its Author in my soul implanted. 

November 7, 1905. 



83 



ENVY 

(Envy is a grain of sand in the eye. — Chinese Proverb.) 

Envy! Toothless jade, or with one fang 
Whose root-envenomed sack surcharged is ne'er 

depleted. 
With bleared eyes swelled red, from grain of 

sand 
Which, being there, hurts not so much the envied 

as the envier. 
'Tis she who never smiles, but head deep sunk 
Between two shoulders which an honest burden 

ne'er has borne 
She slinks and blinks, and from side glance 
Casts arrows poisoned with the venom of her 

inner self. 
'Tis she who from false aims has failed 
And wishes all to fail; and but for power with- 
held 
From All- Wise source, would fell with one strong 

blow 
All whom her venom seeks to suck the life blood 

Or to weaken or destroy the effort. 
When Envy speaks! crack of doom! A 

cavern opens 

84 



Envy 85 

And hell's voices forth, like desperation poured 

from cannon's belly; 
Hissing, spitting devastation everywhere. 
Hairless hag and witless, with all her cunning in 

invention 
She knows not that she the greatest tribute pays 
In envying; 'tis all she can, the best that's in her 

putrid bowels, 
The place for heart and brain no longer Mercy's 

seat. 
And what her end ? Love-lorn and love forsaken. 
No good to think upon ; a burnt spot for a soul 

Which through Eternity must envy. 
O punishment, to which no pain can correspond, 

Nor with suffering can compare ! 
She has not lived, but walking corpse in waking 

death ; 
So naught can add in hell to her bemoaning. 
Twin sister to the slanderer, hand in hand 
To deal destruction, if they could destroy; 

greatest sin 
And self-inflicted punishment, Envying Always ! 
Seeing which, mankind makes haste to fall not 

back 
Lest some such Imp of sin o'ertake, and it 

become like her and rot. 
April 9, 1904. 



CHILDHOOD 

In waking hours my mind doth linger 

O'er pictured scenes of yore, 
With the gilding of the gone-time 

Come images, a score or more. 

The meadows and the singing brooks 

With flowers garnished o'er 
Peeping at their mirrored faces, 

Opening wide a heaven's door. 

Many heavens are in childhood, 

Though flowers fade and leaves grow sear; 
Yet they bloom again, more lovely 

In the new-time drawing near. 

Yes, they bloom in greater beauty 
As if deeds from seeds were sown, 

And a blessed Hand revives them 
When He takes us for His own. 

March 14, 1899. 



86 



YOUTH 

When to fields I've oft been journeying 

With weary steps toward home returning, 

Gladdened by the house lamp's beam, 

From hills which now so distant seem; 

Hands o'erladen in prolix plenty 

Culled neath oak's old pillared sentry, 

Plucked from maze in Wonderland, 

Grown on banks by breezes fanned 

'Mongst winds' soft whispers, sighing, soughing, 

As of Dryads in their wooing; 

In labyrinthal tangle playing, 

Fairies, on their tours a-maying! 

The childish mind, in sleep a-dreaming 

Of wonders, full; with meaning teeming, 

Asks, what decrees the honey sweet, 

And honeysuckles, red; 

And how are roots and birdlets fed; 

And music forth as organ pipe, 

And berries green, then ripe. 



87 



MANHOOD 

In Earth's symphonic swell 

Through pipes of living green 
Tones, fundamental, storm-wild dwell, 

Touched by Hand Unseen. 
Or to the gentle cadence of a sigh, 
Or voiceless ; or to the gentle dirge 
Whispers 'mongst the tremulous leaves to die. 
Its overtones, in softest strains to surge, 
Then crashing, mighty monotone! 
In cataracts' awful leap 
As one in grief, apart, alone, 
His madness in this strife to steep, 
And listening to the surging strain 
In ceaseless tragic song, he finds 
No solace for his voiceless pain 
In the message of the winds. 

$ * # # * # # 

Until he knows this ceaseless endless throb 

Runs through all life, as if penalty for being; 

And sob of all mankind, e'en of Nature, too, 

Enrolled, for her travail for growth. 

The sunlight gleams, then sinks; 

Oft in th' enfolding leaf to greater beauty 

It a- weary seems; the flowret strives, then dies; 

There is no grief for fulfilled life. 

88 



Manhood 89 

From shapeless stem to blossom fair, 

With comely bud between, as beauteous as aught 

may be, 
As gem formed, too, by crystalled light unseen; 
And coral caves, low forming deeps 
From ruthless violence their treasures low. 



CHARACTER 

And so perfection strives. 

Slow-forming humus keeps 

Its richest soil 'neath forests old; 

And nurtures night and day 

The oak and undergrowth with mold 

Formed from life and its decay. 

So man, to his conviction turns, 

His faith and work his compass keep, 

And everywhere, by growth, he learns 

That all must wait to reap. 

September, 1904. 



90 



THE BUDDS OF MILLERSVILLE 

We crack the whip and make a start 

For a glimpse of the trees and Nature's heart ; 

Away from the noise and the busy mart 
To the Budds at Millersville. 

The circling beauty of long Fall Creek 
Sinuous and fair on whose banks we seek 

The trees, like plumes on mountain peak 
Colored from Nature's palette. 

There, ripened ear and stock of corn 
The pumpkin, squash, and vine adorn, 

Where latchstring hangs from morn to morn 
Giving its friendly greeting. 

We look into the hearth's warm glow, 

Cordial and kind, and we know 
That there are blessings here below 

If we only seek to find them. 

All unite in friendly meeting, 

Chairs hold out their arms in greeting; 

And one forgets that time is fleeting, 
In life's e'er changing season. 
91 



92 Apostrophe to Hope 

Books by philosophers, poets, and sages, 
Thoughts that endure for eons and ages, 

Are there, if one will but open their pages, 
To read and dream and ponder 

On the lessons of life which all must learn 
In books, or out of books, to make us yearn 

For better things which await us in turn 
In the Land beyond the River. 



And one goes away and back again, 

Voicing the praise of bluebird and wren, 

As they chant and sing their joyful amen 
To the Maker and Giver of all. 

Pictures, in red, brown, and golden hue, 
In memory linger, till the shadows and dew 

Of life's eve bring their own sweet rue 
To toilers and all a- weary. 

1898. 



VENUS AND ADONIS 

(After reading Shakespeare's Sonnet.) 

As moon's cold rays to sun's hot kiss compared, 

So, when Adonis, lured by Venus, 
Died, a flower of sweetest purity 

Sprang, to deck the place where, in thin air, 
He passed away; and unbegotten race, 

Cold, pure, and loveless as he had been, 
Was left unborn, of which he might have been 
the sire, 
Had he so willed it. Paternal joy to him 
denied, 
Of gods and goddesses and nymphs, 
Love-flower entombed, unsatisfied: 
The unborn love and fire that lurks in Venus' 
breast. 
The rude boar's tusk his groin defiled, 
And, gashed to death, he lay unwept, 

But for his would-be bride. 
His bier, the sunny slope 'neath boughs 
Near brooklet's side, of mossy green, 
Whence sprang the flower of virtue, white and 
pure, 
Forever shrined so sweet her love, 
93 



94 Apostrophe to Hope 

In symbol's language to endure. 

T' upbuild itself in fount of tears, 
Flower nurtured by her grief had striven, 

And throve by moonbeam's softened ray, 
And by sun's heat unshriven. 

January 9, 1904. 



SMILES 

Mistake not valor ! for oft it lies 

Beneath the smile which lends a ray of warmth 

Which far outweighs the force that reeks 

Of bloodshed and of woman's tears. 

Let smiles be viewed with praise 

As far above the frowns and misfits 

For a Nation's needs. Let "heavy blows and 

fast" 
Be felt with velvet touch; 
For we need peace; not war; love, not hate; 
And all that follows in their train 
For mankind's weal. Send us no tyrant's claim, 
But give us peace and smiles, 

Great God of Love ! 
November 17, 191 1. 



95 



THE ISLE OF MACKINAC 

Fair Mackinac, whose waters wash the shores 
Of craggy steppes, to pine trees' odorous 
peaks, 
A soul's eloquence fit tribute were 

To thy supremacy o'er these seas. 
Thou risest like a mountain's height 

In verdant hills primeval denseness. 
A citadel famed in history's lore; 

The red man's haunt, whose bark of birch, 
Impervious and water dry, these broad seas 
swept 
In radiant days like these, sun-kissed and 
glad, 
Soft-footed, trod this isle; once warrior, 

But today in conquest scattered to his happy 
hunting grounds. 
Invaded by the French, his lovely land, 

His numbers decimated in fair America's 
advance 
As by the British quest, and so this beauteous 
isle 
Its leaves of history turns, as do its yellowed 
Leaves in Autumn; in forest's varied color, 
When frost's first nip in suff ranee 
96 



The Isle of Mackinac 97 

Makes its golden harvest, that Nature shall her 
Power of splendor more unfold e'er Winter's 
snows. 
Our Nation claims thee yet again in choice 
possession 
There to hold, please God, as one fair jewel 
In her honored crown of gems. Peace reigns 
now here 
The placent waters and the glowing orb of 
day 
Do vie in wondrous claim upon each other. 

Limpidity vies with atmosphere, or nobler 
In its wrath, when Tempest's awful threat its 
bosom heaves. 
Here pines' rich balm and spruces' nut-brown 
cones 
Give forth their Arabic spice in Nature's prodi- 
gality 
And profusion; all laved in air of icy freshness. 
Cliffs rugged as the Norseman's hills, 

Enchanting mazes in the devious paths, 
To song of sea's soft lull, or in harmonious 
structure 
Of its under tones ; from opal skies 
The sun drops red and gold, mirrored in lake 

Of opaline reflection. Ah this were land 
Well worthy the conquest of the great ! 

Yon Fort, far seeing o'er the sea's expanse 
In grander picturesque, more beautiful than in 
War's alarm ; 
And now the dove of Peace its portals guards, 



98 Apostrophe to Hope 

Its vantage, noble and serene, and men and seas 
are calm. 
Rest here, fair dove, that though the eagle 
near, 
Thy cote be not disturbed, let the laurel and 
the palm branch weave. 
beauteous Isle, bring unto thee the 
weary 
Here to rest; give of thy balm forever unde- 
pleted. 
And pray we that Nature in her varied 
changes 
May not award to this mid-ocean isle oblivion 
nor engulf ment; 
That her fair face upon foundations fast 
Shall last; and beautify, through ages yet to 
come, 
As worthy of her bounteous gift 
From mother source, as parent to her child. 
Mackinac, hast thou a twin? In all the 
earth 
Dost likeness favor thee, or is thy rugg&d beauty 
thine alone, 
Unique? Thy answer in the birch and pines' 
tall growth 
And whispered song, their unctuous, aromatic 
smell ; 
'Tis also read in rock-ribbed pile of upturned 
stone 
And ocean's swell. In fragrant air and bounding 
wave 



The Isle of Mackinac 99 

Thy kinship to kind Nature's heart, but yet 
alone, 
Apart, as some great work of Masterhand, 

created once 
Complete, well done, is ne'er its counterpart to 
find, 

Nor likeness made in any clime. 
September 28, 1905. 



AN IDYLL 
(souvenir affectueux) 

Many moods has the poet's mind. 

Tonight I am thinking of you; 
And the long summer walks 

And the long cherished talks, 
Just a page in the lives of two. 

One of many in the full Book of Life; 

Light and shade of two happy hearts; 
I was sad when you sorrowed, and glad when 
you laughed, 
As from the full goblet of youth we both 
quaffed, 
Nor thought once of Cupid's barbed dart. 

'Twas a friendship of rarest delight. 

Silent or gay, you understood well, 
Though we drove through the wintry wind ; 

The mood of the one to the other defined, 
In silence, by magic's spell. 
ioo 



An Idyll 101 



You have gone to the Other Shore; 

Does he die who ever is true? 
Though our eyes may not meet, 

There's ne'er a heart's beat 
That could ever be false to you. 

April 15, 1904. 



A GRAIN OF RICE 

Born in thy sunny clime, 
The Occident thou hast invaded 
With thy dainty and pervading entity, 
In thy beneficent gift containing 
Manna for the perishing, 
Unimprisoned from thy sheath, 
Nature's little capsule, 
Grain of rice ! 

Dainty ministrations, thine, 

To gentle needs and to heroic ends, 

Thou fair white thing ! 

Let others sing to Bacchus 

And to the flowing bowl, 

I salute thy snowy mounds, 

fair white grains of rice! 

No ghosts enrage in thy stomachic sepulcher. 

Oh to see thy waving sea of heads ! 

To pause upon the threshold of thy mission, 

To think upon thy beauty and beneficence; 

As that which gives unceasingly 

And without stint, 

O fair white grains of rice ! 

September 21, 191 1. 

102 



YE WAVES 

Ye waves, laugh and dance in your gayest of 

moods, 
And throw your white spray to the beach, mead, 

and woods; 
In festoon and figure bespangle your veils, 
Leap high in mid air, and entangle your sails. 

Changing moods you indulge, you resist your 

confines, 
Your laughter returns, though you moan too, 

sometimes ; 
'Gainst your borders too narrow, you roar and 

resist, 
To return to your laughter, when by sunshine 

bekist. 



103 



TO DICK 

Now you have my congratulations, 
My best sincerest salutations ! 
Not less sincere, 
Believe me, dear, 
Because a little over due; 
But just as heartfelt, true to you. 

September, 1901. 



104 



Visions are sent, 
Visions are given, 

Messages come from 
The heights of heaven. 



105 



TRUST 

Trust when the waves are highest, 
Trust when the ebb is low, 

God in His mercy heareth, 
Trust in the overflow. 



1901. 



106 



IN EXTREMIS 

(Vision of Sir Launfal, and the words which Christ in 
the vision said to him: "Who gives himself with his alms, 
feeds three — himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.") 

I cry to my God in the night for strength, 

And He sustaineth me. 
I pray to Him for deliverance from mine enemies, 

And He heareth me. 
I seek the way through His guidance, 

And He leadeth me. 
Giving faith and showing His marvels, 

Else my feet stumble and I fall. 
Verily His promises glorify 

And His counsels are cherished; 
For He is greater than all, and over all. 

With Him I can stand, 
Even though the mountains crumble 

And all men turn against me. 
He accounts the sparrow's fall, 

And, unworthy as I am, 
He will abide with me when I call aright 

Upon Him. Great and Omnipotent 
Are His works and mighty are His counsels. 

October 6, 1904. 

107 



VERITAS 

("The truth is like the sun, it may be obscured for 
a time; but, like the sun, it will not be obscured al- 
ways. ' ') 

Know ye not, minions, that naught but true 
greatness abides? 
The possessor knows his not; but guided by 
the unerring hand of Right, 
Impelled by forces of the mighty hosts, he 
acts; 
Not for plaudits, nor fleeting, flattering 
sound, 
But for some prayer of his or theirs, asked at a 
time 
When souls were in communion with the Lord 
of Hosts. 
A decree is given, a mission sent ; God, through 
His laws, 
Gives us to Fate; we call it Destiny; what 
better name? 
The right prevails, though sometimes late to us it 
seem. 
What of delays? born of the divine, it cannot 
fail; 

108 



Veritas 109 

Strive for the heart of things ; claim His promises 
As worthy as is thy meed of faith; nothing 
fails that's true; 
'Tis but the false, of tinsel, trickery, and broken 
faith, that fails; 
All vanities webbed in Loom of Life, bring 
but defeat. 
Powerless praise ! Truth thou soul of all ! 
November i, 1901. 



THERE WILL BE REST 

There will be rest; 
For One who never fails has promised 
That in the quiet harbor of the blest 
All strife shall be forgotten 
In new life ; 

There will be rest. 

There will be songs; 
For One who never fails has promised 
That strength shall come for which the spirit 

longs 
And care with dust shall die 
And be forgot; 
There will be songs. 

1900. 



OH WHY THE GREAT HEART'S OVER- 
FLOW! 

Oh why the great heart's overflow 
In flood-tides swells which come and go, 
Like ocean's depths and cataract's leap, 
Across vast space and vaster deep, 
Athwart and o'er the undertow! 

Why its limits, limitless, 
Since limitations we confess 
Of poor mortality's horizon 
Of faith to ideals, hardly won, 
And infinite pain we would repress 

With finite power; its surging throb 

Would still; its vast domain would rob 

Of space and deeps indefinite 

Which lead us toward the Infinite 

Through soundless deeps and ceaseless throbs. 

Be still, faint heart, it is thy soul 

That cries through thee; and on the scroll 

Of mighty ages thou shalt read 

Of steadfast faith, of pregnant seed, 

Of deeds made worthy to enroll. 



ii2 Apostrophe to Hope 

For Love is statelier than kings ; 
Greater than equity ; and loftier sings 
Her noble song, than ocean's moan 
Or cataract's dash, or sea's volcanic cone; 
And through the chaos softly rings 

When Justice hidden seems ; and din is great, 
Her balance broken; and the light comes late. 
Her full white arm for Right not bared, 
Her sight no longer darkened, as she dared 
With mortal eyes to see; with mortal ends to 
mate. 



But seas and hearts and souls be calmed! 
Let halting Doubt no longer damned 
By eyes which look but yet are scaled, 
The moonbeam by the sun's light paled. 
And Justice, blind, shall see aright, 
Shall wrest from out the darkest night 
That which her balance weighs. 
And sun's full shine shall light the days 
Its sparkle on the high waves' crest 
And sun and love, the tired soul rest. 

Though depths, their deeps, their sigh and sob, 
Go on through ceaseless ages ; but to rob 
At last, the weary pain, the bitter smart 
Of poor mortality — this human heart. 



DRIFTING 

I gaze out for a sight of the land, 

Hear the ebb sing soft and low; 
The water sparkles and large fish leap, 

While drowsy with fresh sea air I can sleep 
With no thought of the undertow 

Or the gleam of receding sand. 

April 17, 1904. 



"3 



IN HARBOR 

I look out on the dark'ning main, 
The shrieking winds blow mad 

O'er iron waves of a wintry sea. 
And the piercing rain 

And the storm seem glad 

That my love is in harbor with me. 



114 



VIA DOLOROSA 

("They know not what they do. ") 

My heart is full of sighs 
And in my soul there lies 
A pain unspeakable. 

In Rebellion's icy stare 
My spirit stills the prayer, 
My heart so aches. 

I grope, and fail to find 
The light; yet the conscious mind 
Assurance gives, 

Though God seem far away, 
This cloud of somber gray 
His presence hides. 

1906. 



115 



INSOMNIA 

Eyelids drawn by hand of fiend, a thousand 

terrors, 
As of noisome things; of reptiles, sleek and 

sinuous, 
Spitting the poison from their gums; 
Of beetles, wasps and asps, and nameless little 

things, 
That with a dot do sting the body to a pulp. 
Legions of devils laughing while their imps the 
Heart strings pull. Busy, too, as devils in their 

hell. 
Pulses running burning lava, eyes surcharged 

with brine; 
Or puffing orbs to bursting, chasing furrows 
Which once were cheeks of snowy roundness. 
Eagles and birds of prey, long-beaked, sit 
And from the heart do peck an atom every hour 
And chatter while they make their feasts. 
What and why all this? 

Mayhap for nerves o'erwrought in music's realm, 
Or for a mission to the sick, a life to others given; 
Or book of sunny thoughts, to gladden all who 

read, 
Writ by midnight oil, too long, too ceaselessly. 
116 



Insomnia 117 

A fair star beckoning over there, a magnet to 

the man. 
A bird of beauty, perched to lure by song so 

sweet 
That song and plumage are too fair and beautiful. 
Mayhap a poem, of so rare a worth, so wond'rous 

in its prophecies, 
And yet its beauty digging entrails out of him 

who writ. 
A painting too, a story tells of tortures of the 

damned ; 
Extremes which meet in fervid heat, turned by 

excess 
To bitter gall. The receding of the goal 
As he approached it, the small mean little thing 
Compared with what he felt, and what his soul 

could feel. 
And so a statue ; which should have breath, 
But would not; should speak; but cold, unyield- 
ing, 
Silent and disdainful, because it cannot feel the 

lava 
In its author's burning veins. 
And so the bard hath writ of the torments of 

success ; 
All wrought as best they could, and not in vain, 
If but to learn man's impotence. 
And each a great truth tried to tell. 
Another, and a briefer yet, the miser's gold to 

count, 
Until both hands and heart are palsied by the act. 



n8 Apostrophe to Hope 

A poor mean quality, which makes men fools, 

forgetting God 
And all most dear, to hoard and worship for a 

few brief years ; 
In getting, hastening for themselves their end; 
That those who follow them the gift may dissi- 
pate. 
The laborer shall toil and sweat, his night's 

relief engaging 
For toilers of the brain and heart, ambition's 

weary slaving. 
Each earns his modicum of rest and waits upon 

the morrow, 
Eager for the promises and morning light to 

come. 
1902. 



SLEEP 

When the shades of night come down 
Winged messengers flit around. 

Their name is Sleep. 
They come from Poppy-land, 
Scattering the pollen from their blooms 
And blest indeed is he who has a dust 

From their fay fingers. 
In every atom is a dream ; f orgetfulness 
And rest. Each leaf a barque on Lethe's stream, 

Whose tide, swift flowing, 
Leads out to seas of peace. Oceans, whose waves 
Sing songs of lullaby ; cradles of crested foam ; 
Billows music-laden with siren's songs 
Which need not rhyme, to make their melody. 

Pilot-like, guiding 
To that lovely land, where senses in abeyance, 
The spirit floats to higher realms, 
And there, forgetful of its weary self, 
Dwells for moments in empyrean. 

The way is trackless; 

The air is ether 
And the port is Heaven. 
1899. 



119 



THE MIST 

Veils of filmy nebulae 

Hang aloof as soft as air 
Along the valley's tortuous way 

Trailing their silken tissues there. 
Airy, fairy, vaporous, soft, 

Dainty gray folds of grace, 
Draping and drooping, rising aloft — 

Fleeing away into space. 
Silently, lightly fading away 

By evening's zephyr bekist; 
Shadowy folds of silken gray, 

Mysterious shades of mournful mist. 

April 4, 1905. 



AN ALBUM LEAF 

(TO MRS. C. C. B.) 

(In answer to a request from her daughter.) 

How can I in a little space, 
Such as you have awarded, 

Pay tribute to so fair a face 
And mind so sweet and candid 
As your Mother's? 

Many oaths make not the truth, 
"But the single vow vowed true"; 

So if I lack the space, forsooth, 
The sentiment for which I sue, 
Is all your Mother's. 



121 



TO MRS. 

("I seem to have nothing for you but love — you give, I 
receive." Mrs. 's letter.) 

"Nothing but love!" amiga mia, 
Thy offering exceeds all the wealth of Ind. 

Its coral caves, the mines 
Wherein the sparkling gems are stored 

Give forth no priceless thing, like thine to me. 
That which exceeds e'en equity, 

Fair justice and is its source. 
And thou givest praise for a soul's weak expres- 
sion 

In music ; heart throbs along the way, 
If charm there be, 'tis this. 

Thou, dear friend, art generous to my faults, 
Too blind to inefficiencies, which I deplore; 

Thou givest of thy great soul's depths, 
Thou givest and mine receives. 

1908. 



OH, THE FAIR OCTOBER DAYS 

Oh, the fair October days 

In the mellow of the year, 
When leaves in reds, browns, and grays — 

Their varied colors sear, 
And bluebirds twitter and twitter, 

And flit from the bough to the bough, 
Trusting, not asking, but waiting and singing- 

The plentiful year to endow. 

The leaves are falling, falling, 

In these melancholy days 
Gilding the air ever, 

With a dreamy subtle haze. 
Ah, it is pleasant to linger 

'Mid their reds and golden brown, 
And dream and wander through them 

As they come raining down 

With a promise of enrichment 

And the earth to fructify, 
Yea, as sorrows chasten ever, 

As we go wandering by, 
Like the leaves, on a sad October day. 



123 



124 Apostrophe to Hope 

Oh, the yellow air of amber; 

Ah, the days so soft and somber 
Into peace and hope reviving 

For a rest from longer striving, 
Like the quiet of a fair October day. 



THE SONNET 

Gem of Poesy ! consummate art ! 
Sublimely fashioned to a wondrous perfection 

Of form in thought and thought in form; 
A modeled, chiseled, and perfected thing; 

But limited and circumscribed 
By rule inflexible. 



The form constrains and takes from liberty its 
wings ; 
Like statue in the whitest marble 
Cast in lines conventional, attracts, but does 
not 
Touch the heart; but Mind is held in its en- 
thrallment 
And Beauty is its sponsor, Admiration lends its 
eye; 
But Soul withholds its loving tribute 
To a form. 



Shakespeare, greatest bard since Homer, 

Defied the form exact; defined it a "stretched 
measure"; 

125 



126 Apostrophe to Hope 

That scope his song might have, and Muse be 
not tormented. 
As hedged by lines and form before the thought, 
In numbers, length, and measure; as by a calcu- 
lation wrought 
Not in technique, yet abiding still by law, 
And with an art concealed the art, 
In Music's throbs. 

In thought unsearched and undevised, in flow, as 
fluent 
As the stars, throughout their courses; 
Nor in puzzle, nor enigma, wrought, 

But simplified to eloquence. 
Give larger vehicle to song; old Masters' hallelu- 
jahs ! 
Whose power, begot in inspiration, 
Was born in spontaneity ; today choose vehicle 
more mighty; 
The stately strophe of the Greek, mightier 
Than spinet's limit or harpsichord's harassment ; 

Lines which hamper less, larger note can sound 
In wider gamut, in depth and height and 
breadth. 
And greater wit will find its way; give loftier 
flight 
To sense and spirit than in Sonnet and old 
Sonaten, 
Though quaint in classic elegance 
And prim in antique song. 

April 16/1904. 



COURAGE 

Why do we sing 

When all seems vain? 
Is it the Martyr's song, 

An echo of his pain? 



Of courage midst 

The foes of earth; 
Of trust, though clouds obscure, 

In all this dearth 
Of joy and mirth 

What hope can here allure ? 
June, 1903. 



127 



AN OCTAVE 

In the silent unfolding 

Of the frond of the fern, 
In its spreading beauty 

Our lessons we may learn ; 
As in perfected lily 

Or perfect blooming rose; 
For not with noise and tumult 

Grows the work ; but in repose. 

November 17, 1903. 



128 



MY BACK YARD 

My neighbor's beds are sweet and pretty 
In parterre lines, round and square, 

The turf cut short, and not a blade 
Of bonny blue grass dare 

Its head in tasseled shock to lift 
Lest sickle's ravage lay it bare. 

True, the spots, both brown and gray, 
To my eyes more unsightly, than 

My little wildwood tangle 
Untouched by hand of man, 

Nor scythe or sickle, grass head culls 
From my little back yard plan. 

There are daisies and red roses, 

To greet me every morn; 
Sweet buttercups and eglantine, 

And honeysuckle wreaths adorn 
My back yard in profusion 

Growing 'mongst some stocks of corn. 

Set in deepest mats of grasses, 
Whence comes their nurture meet, 

9 I29 



130 Apostrophe to Hope 

And giving me a breath of air 

My neighbors too, so pure and sweet, 

As hand of Nature placed them 
Their daily greetings to repeat. 

Convention says that they must go; 

That Nature is too wild. 
And so their pretty heads must bend 

By sickle's ruthless blade denied. 
They fall — and to me it seems a dirge 

To wasted life, unreconciled. 

Convention says thou shalt not 
Leave Nature in profusion. 

Who dare gainsay this stiff old dame 
Who feeds us on delusion ! 

My soul says, but thou shalt; 

Though to her it mean confusion. 

Protesting they, as lying low, 
While uttering sweet perfume, 

To me their ravages most dire 
And hard as hand of doom. 

Ah me, must I thus say good-bye, 
Who shall their beauty reallume? 

If, then my tangled wildwood 
Must, flowers and all be laid 

To sod and soil unsightly, 
Beauties doomed to fade, 

Whose hand can reawaken 

But God's, what He has made? 



My Back Yard 131 

Sunshine that meant to green the grass 
Perforce, must cut and dry the soil, 

And colors of prismatic hue 
In vain for their perfection toil. 

Thus thwarted by the sickle's grasp 
To earth their beauteous claims despoil. 

June 5, 1904. 



CHRISTMAS SONG 

Wealth of gold in sunshine 

Of silver in the snow, 
Music in the atmosphere, 

If we all but know 
How and where to find them 

With minds and hearts in tune 
Pulsing to the rhythm 

Of Nature's tender rune. 



God favors some to find 

This blessed privilege: 
From others oft withholden, 

Who look but on the ridge 
And not to mountain heights, 

Where choicest blossoms bloom, 
Where rarest virtues thrive 

Sent hence, by noise and gloom. 



Flowers in the springtime, 
Stars in azure blue, 

Birds aloof a-singing, 
And only man doth rue; 
132 



Christmas Song 13; 

Of all God's children chosen 

'Tis he alone, who sees 
Nor feels not in his brother 

The kinship of all these. 

Too gentle and too true 

To join in din and strife, 
The bird sings while it flies 

Lest in his joyous life 
He learn of mortal envy; 

Which might destroy his peace, 
And wither the sweet flowers, 

Then would his glad song cease. 

Give birds air and sunshine; 

Give flowers the light and sod, 
To all who envy, prayers; 

To mankind, love of God, 
That the law of Heaven 

May find, at last, on earth 
Its glory and fulfillment 

In Faith and Hope, new birth- 



1897. 



MY MOTHER'S LAST MESSAGE 

"Tell them the glorious news!" 
Triumph on Eternity's shore; 

Message to absent loved ones 
Sent back from Heaven's door. 

Glorious to live in the spirit 

In the light of her Saviour's face, 

Where pain and woe are banished, 
Where all are saved by His grace. 

From Time through Eternity's cycles 
Where naught can fail or destroy, 

She passed attended by angels 
To a joy without alloy. 

Where cycles are not measured 
By anticipation, dread, or hate, 

But come and go without reck'ning, 
Where it is neither early nor late. 

The heritage of His faithful 

Where naught can fail or decay, 

Nor morning, noon, or night time, 
But a glorious livelong day. 
134 



My Mother's Last Message 135 

She had prayed, trusted, and waited; 

And her Father attended her there 
In answer to His promise 

Of blessings, wondrous and fair. 

From the high seats of the mighty 
In a radiance surpassing sweet, 

To shine and beckon us onward, 
To encourage our halting feet. 

"Glorious news!" Triumphant 
O'er earth's vain and sinful thrall! 

Oh may we see her face again 
When we answer to His call. 

September 4, 1899. 



I thank the Great Powers that it was given to me, even 
in so weak a way, to preserve this eloquent message. It 
seems to her daughter the most beautiful, last message, 
before entering into the new, and higher life. — L. H. M. 



CONSOLATION 

Age is not years; 

'Tis the weight on the heart 
Of working and pain 

Of waiting and tears. 

Years, but a span; 

They pass like a breath 
To Eternity's shore, 

And the spirit's the man. 



I3 6 



MY LOVE AND I 

There are heart throbs the world cannot see, 
There are thoughts that the world cannot ken ; 

These are for mine and for me, 
Far away from the haunts of men. 

There are hand clasps so tender and true, 
There are glances so fraught with love, 

But these are for me and for you 
As the stars are the heaven's above. 
1898. 



137 



VICTORY 

The clouds lower 

And then they rise; 
The sunshine flickers 

And then it dies. 
So, my heart, 

Be thou but brave; 
As He who watches 

And e'er forgave, 
Be patient yet; 

The wrongs thou hast 
Are also His, — He will repay; 

Thy victory, last. 
November 17, 1903. 



138 



A HYMN 

There is a lot that falls to all 
Of shade and sunshine intertwined; 

Like shadows cast by moonshine's fall 
Which proves the light beyond divined. 

'Tis all a part of what God sends 
To grace the growth that He desires, 

And to this dispensation lends 
A sweetness which His care requires. 

1887. 



139 



THE WIND BLOWS 

(NOVEMBER) 

Yea, the wind blows, — 

Its breath a sigh or a moan. 
And in lull and repose, — 

A fresh wak'ning dirge or a groan. 

s|e ;Ji * "!■ * , "n v 

"Tis a sigh to the wayfarer, far from home 

In lands alone and a-weary, 
Its cadences rise and fall like a moan 

In his world so lonely and dreary. 

'Tis a dirge, when o'er the new-made grave 

It marks its lonely refrain, 
As if seeking the heart, where no earthly crave 

Can disturb or discover the pain. 

A dirge, not to the sleeping, 
But to the weeping; 

Not to the dead, but the living; 
Not to the resting, 
But to the hasting ; 

Not to the proved, — but misgiving. 
140 



The Wind Blows 141 

Who escapes the moan in the winds ? 

Who, the sigh in the heart, 
Or hears not the dirge, which always reminds 

Of heavenly peace and world's care apart. 

'Tis a dirge, not to the sleeping, 
But to the weeping; 

Not to the dead, but the living; 
Not to the resting, 
But to the hasting; 

Not to the proved, — but misgiving. 



TO C. S. N. 

A mighty man has risen! 

A king called to his home; 
Nor words can tell of thee, revered friend, 

But works live here, where thou hast been, 
Deeds speak of thee most eloquent. 

Their aroma, like spice, which lingers long; 
Sweet perfume of remembrance 

Weaves garlands of the choicest blooms. 
And Memory brings her frankincense 

To lay all these, not on the tomb, 
But on the crown, wrought from earthly cross; 

And to the kingly heart, which pulsed with 
love 
Of all humanity; sympathies attuned to all 
mankind, 

In kindness, absolute. 
Yea, a mighty man has risen! He conquered, 

Served, and now he reigns. 
Anthems of the glad well done, ring in celestial 
strains 

To greet his coming to that lovely land 
To which he journeyed on, fearless and tearless. 

He labored here, revered; filled with earth's 
honors ; 

142 



To C. S. N. 143 

Empty, these ! As now to fairer lands he goes 
To meet rewards prepared for such as he. 

Words, ye are inadequate; though reverent and 
sincere, 
When ye essay to sing of him ; 

For aye, a mighty man is risen. 
February 23, 1908. 



HONORS MUST BE WON 
(to a young lad) 

Honors must be won, my boy ; 

There are others in the race, 
Many noble workers 

Pressing on with steadfast pace. 

Working not for commendation, 
But excellence is their aim; 

Let thy banner be ' ' Excelsior ' ' ! 
Its folds, alone, mean Fame. 

So, if honors must be won, 

Be fair to one and all; 
The more of help, the more divine 

The honors to your lot shall falL 

October 24, 1899. 



144 



MUSIC 

("Far in the past I heard the heaven-tuned voice 
That charmed my soul and held me to my choice ; 
'Twas thine, O Melody.") 

music, whose soul is harmony, 

Enter into our earthly lives 
That, by thine acquaintance, we may progress 

To higher spheres and loftier. 
Thou art the spirit of the spheres, 

Thou penetratest to the innermost 
Making the refinement of all things earthly ; 

To lead by thine expansive measures 
To celestial joys ; poets sing of thee ; 

But no finite mind may grasp thee yet. 
Thou art the language of angels, 

By growth, slow yet secure, 
Of the spirit toward the Spirit 

To him who seeks, shall man learn 
Of all thou art; applauded, 

Yet much hath man to learn of thee. 
Thy mission is to solace, to uplift, 

To magnify; by thee, life's great leaven, 
Love, shall be cemented; friendships shall be 
centered, 

Wars shall be quelled by thee 

10 145 



146 Apostrophe to Hope 

And the minds of men be tempered. 

Times shall change, and by thy force and 
eloquence 
Strength shall come from gentleness 

Harmony out of discord ; for where thou art 
O Melody, all avenues are thine. 

Priest, publican, and sinner shall know thee 
For thou'rt heaven's chief help in saving souls. 
January 21, 1899. 



A MME. MARIE CELESTE P 

Knowest thou the esoteric meaning of a name? 
Its content? Mary Celeste; purity is thy fame; 
There is a hidden prophecy, which we give not 

to ourselves, 
As t'were a significance, superseded by the elves. 

******* 

Laura, for deeds and laurels ; 
For Josephine, fidelity, wealth, and grace; 
For Dorothy, a dignity, and comeliness of 

face. 
Julia, a dainty ether; 
Deborah, lofty, pure, and true; 
And in love and trust, I, for Gertrude's heart, 

would sue. 
Jane, not Jennie, is woeful with Eliza ! 
Margaret is eloquent for her kind ; 
While Elizabeth, a test is, of most virtuous 

mind. 
Ella, not Helen or Elena, is a fancy; 
Prophecy small, unto the end; 
When in extremest need, for her, you may not 

send, 
But to Frances, I adore her ! 
147 



148 Apostrophe to Hope 

Tho' I've not found the Sallys faithful, or have 

you? 
Nor Emmas, staunch and loyal, in friendships' 

noblest few. 



I would not name my child a Rosie, 
Lest thorns would grow athwart, 
And pierce the beauteous posey, 

Deep into friendship's heart. 

Rosalie and Adelaide 

Are beautiful together, 

And should be loyal, firm, and true 

In fair and stormy weather. 

To Coras, Kates, and Doras, 

The poet sends a sigh; 
But, unto the Floras, 
Weave garlands, fling them high! 
So, to you, ma chere Marie, 
A name apart, by faith, was given, 
That, by your works, while here below, 
You shall ascend to Heaven. 

Washington, D. C, July 1, 1915. 



PUT NOT THY TRUST IN PRINCES 

(psalm cxlvi) 

Put not thy trust in princes ; 

Hold the best thou hast to give for One who never 

fails 
As long as thou shalt live, to care for thee ; 
More than father, for his earthly child, 
Or mother, for her nursling. 
Love imperishable ! through all neglect 
Of Him and His commands, save thy faith in 

Him. 
And when some mortal spirit wounds thine own, 
Turn thou to Him. Put not thy trust in princes, 
For e'en beyond this earthly pilgrimage, 
He hath prepared thy home, forgives thine 

inconsistencies, 
Withholds so long His wrath. 
Gives yet a little time, that thou take heed 
That through this Vale of Tears thou may'st 

ascend 
To His domain to rest; and with the saints, to 

help 
His work to do on earth ; perchance, a messenger 
To those distressed; back to this Vale, 
149 



150 Apostrophe to Hope 

To point, unknown to them, the way to that 

dear love 
That never fails and knows no change. 
Love as immutable as God. 
Put not thy trust in princes, else thy heart 
Will yearn in vain for what it hungers ; 
Famished, ever seeking for its need, 
Turned in upon itself to cry, until it finds 
And knows Thy love, O Father, and in it rests. 
There to fortify for storms, until their stress is 

past. 
In th' imperishable, limitless shelter of Thy 

love; 
To shield and break the weight of care upon us, 
Which could hurl against the reef of heedlessness 
And weakness born within us. 
The prince may be the lowliest; yea, as in a 

manger 
When a King was born ; the stars sang 
And face of Nature smiled. A little babe, un- 

guiled, 
And ne'er to sin, The Prince of House Most 

Royal. 

March 2, 1904. 



TO GERTRUDE H 

Thou art one of the loves of my life ; 

So graceful and debonaire; 
So gentle, sweet, and fair; 

That I would a tribute pay 
Worthy of my love today. 

Devoted, loyal, ever, 

Thou hast come into my life and heart, 
As fragile as a reed thou art; 

Yes, fragile as a reed; 
Yet strong as a great deed. 

In thy love of truth and right, 
Thou art sister, daughter, friend; 

Not often do the Powers send 
One like unto thee, — 

As my Gertrude comes to me. 

Alas, the days go slowly by; 

The future holds for us much more 
Than yet vouchsafed; it has in store 

Love and a home for thee, 
Wherein a heart shall faithful be. 

February 18, 1903. 

151 



ODE TO FRIENDSHIP 

("Mysterious cement of the soul, sweet 'ner of life, and 
solder of Society.") 

Sacred mystery ! true synonym of God, 

Of Nature, Love, and Life. 
There thou standest, like the great white oak 

Nor storm nor stress can beat upon thy trunk 
to slay it. 
Like Time and Truth, itself, to last, 

Stronger growing, 'gainst the cank'rous tide, 
Thy fibre ever proving. Rare as orchid 

And high as edelweiss, growth of all most rare. 
Tested, to stand, like the adamantine rock; 

A rod of Moses in the wilderness ; 
Yea, e'en Aaron's rod, putting forth buds in 
barren lands. 

Let me know thee, Friendship, for no chord 
That hand of man can strike in Earth's great 
symphony 

Likens to thee. Yea, higher than the orchid 
And loftier than the edelweiss, which thrive not 

In the lowlands. What soil would'st have? 
Equality; first of standards, mind, and soul. 

There is a law unwrit, but not unproved 
152 



Ode to Friendship 153 

To water with tears of joy and grief 

And leaven with waiting and sorrow. 
And ye, Pilgrim, who to fair fulfillment 

Would have this priceless boon, will ye not 
these 
For that which alwaj^s gives and always has to 
give. 
Not of the word but of the spirit. 
On Fame's declivities, there is naught to take 
thy place 
O ministering friendship ! 
Oft have I heard thy strain, and in each zone of 
life, 
As rare thou art, ne'er obsolete; 
But living shining entity. So as the night of 
years draws on 
Give thyself to mine and me, 
In the likeness of God's love, then shall I be 
satisfied. 
Thou who smilest in the desert of our darkest 
desolation, 
Ah, thou art the link to God and angels, 
The Truth! the Alpha and Omega 

The three in One. 
August 22, 1902. 



A SLEIGHING SONG 

All Nature is a-smiling, 

The happy hours beguiling; 
Her jewelled mantle wearing 

She reigns a princess, bearing 
Beauty; and with wand a-waving, 

The magic scene enslaving, 
The earth and air a-glitter 

With the glimmer and the glamour 
Of the glint! 

Oh the merry sleighing weather 

O'er paths where once was heather; 
To the sounds of happy laughter 

Hearts beating fast and faster 
To the jingle of the jangle 

And the boughs bent all a-tangle 
In the glimmer and the glamour 

And the glitter 

Of the glint! 



i54 



(" All we are is in the soul ; are you sure yours has had its 
full development?") 

Balzac. 



TO MRS. H- 



She sees by the light of the soul ; 

Unerring her sight a queen she walks in the light. 

A word, and Nature's beauties unroll; 

The red of the rose, 

The pale of the pinks, 

The light of the heavens 

Where the afterglow sinks 

In its liquid and molten gold, 
For she sees by the light of the soul. 

* =t= * * * * 

When to my vision shall unroll the scroll 
May I see by the light of the soul. 

February 8, 1903. 



155 



SINCERITY 

Of all the gifts the gods bestow 
Is sincerity the rarest ? 

Yet to mortals here below, 
It is indeed, the fairest. 

March 18, 1915. 



156 



A THOUGHT 

I love the sunshine ; 
And when the leaden skies its brilliance hides, 

A sense of thanks comes o'er me 
And all other sense o'er rides 

In gratitude for shelter. 

October 30, 1910. 



157 



GRATITUDE 

When I wander in Thy fields, O God, 

Thou upliftest me; 
As I pluck the messengers Thou hast sent, 

I learn of Thee; 
As I bend the knee to these, Thy gifts, 
Asking for their lessons, 

My heart ascends to Thee; 
And to the trees, Thy shrines, 
In thankfulness for their shade; 
Which, with unvarying kindliness 
Shelter from the scorching rays, 

As Thy beneficence 
In the noonday sun of life. 
And their cool effulgence in the night 
Soothes the fever of the spirit; 
Like the green tent in the wilderness 

Their canopy is rest; 
Their leaves and boughs are altars, 
Munificent expression of Thy power 
Silent and ever reassuring 

As Thy laws. 

July 24, 1903. 



158 



TO MR. AND MRS. M. S. 

Wedded ! Ah, that is a wonder-word ! 
The old sweet story of hearts entwined. 
Of love and hope and faith preferred ; 
May you therein this emblem find. 
God grant that with chaste orange bloom 
Shall weave the blessings health and peace 
In life's e'er varying loom. 

That orange bloom, pure white, 

Shall e'er the symbol be 

Of what "you ask aright," 

Of love and faith and purity. 

' ' From wrong debar ' ' ; 

And as the shadows lengthen 

"Make brighter every star." 

Washington, D. C, December 7, 1909. 



159 



THE LAND OF THE LAUGHING WATER 

Minnesota ! Minnetonka ! Minnehaha ! 

Sweet euphony in sky and air ! 
Nature's voice, in anthem fair; 

In full choruses to blend, 
Heaven's messages to send 
In the rareness 
And the fairness 
Of the riant splendors of this land 
Of laughing water. 

Minneapolis, October 10, 1914. 



160 



L'ENVOI 

poesy, thou art the wine-press ! 
Thou winged Mercury! 
The bloom and flower of thought; 
The intimate utterances of the soul 
Carrying balm to the belabored spirit ; 
Though the thoughtless would not conceive thee. 
The Truth ! the ultimate, the life, 
When by th' Assayer's hand, the dross from 
gold is weighed, 

O beauteous Poesy! 
Its essence; as by the crucible of time and 
thought, 

Of pain and joy, 
That thou givest of thy psychic prophecies. 
Time proves thee the expounder of the finest 

truth; 
For as thou singest, so is he who singeth; 
There is no falsity, no mask in thee. 

Washington, D. C, July i, 1915. 



161 



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